


assemble

by groovystars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (really not enough allura), Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Avengers AU, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Texan Keith (Voltron), a lot of this is just backstory, also not enough allura, but the ca:tws plotline took over, everyone is a BAMF, it's comics and cinematic universe btw, oh there's like....one racial slur but i guess it's era appropriate???, rated mature because swearing and marvel's storylines r a bit dark, this was meant to focus on the avengers 2012 movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovystars/pseuds/groovystars
Summary: ‘there was an idea- katie and hunk know about it- called the voltron initiative. the plan was-is, god, it is- to bring together a group of remarkable people, and see if together they could become something more. to fight the battles we never could. i wasn’t sure though. just knew that katie and hunk could do it, maybe lance if he wasn’t knee-deep in cover work. but now that cap’s used to the century and keith kogane turned up from the dead, and we have a literal god on our hands… now- now i think we can do that. i think we can believe in heroes.’aka the marvel au that's probably already been done





	assemble

**Author's Note:**

> i have exams in like, two weeks, why did i write this
> 
> also absolutely not checked over so if there are typos, just let me know
> 
> follow me!
> 
> \- kirjavva.tumblr.com  
> \- @cactusclaudia on twitter

‘there was an idea- katie and hunk know about it- called the voltron initiative. the plan was-is, god, it _is-_ to bring together a group of remarkable people, and see if together they could become something more. to fight the battles we never could. i wasn’t sure though. just knew that katie and hunk could do it, maybe lance if he wasn’t knee-deep in cover work. but now that cap’s used to the century and keith kogane turned up from the dead, and we have a literal god on our hands… now- now i think we can do that. i think we can believe in heroes.’

* * *

 

**1.**

 

takashi enlists after pearl harbour.

it’s the right thing to do, he thinks, but _god_ , is it difficult. there’s slurs thrown at him, and looks thrown at him that scream of violence, blood. only, takashi is good at ignoring it, is good at overcoming his japanese appearance with his squeaky-clean suburban california accent, not at all like keith’s heavy southern drawl. good at calling himself ‘shiro’ so he wouldn’t have to hear sneers mutilating the _takashi shirogane_ his parents gifted him with.

he gets his papers, perfect candidate to be a soldier, and he’s given a week before he goes.

he tells his parents’ grave when no-one’s around, and he tells keith over dinner.

 

it’s difficult for takashi to tell whether keith got into another fight or not. keith’s lip seems permanently split, bruises splatter across his body, but the black eye he got six days ago is definitely getting better so takashi takes it as a win.

‘i’ll be eighteen in three months,’ keith says when takashi tells keith of his enlistment.

‘don’t you dare,’ takashi says and keith shrugs.

‘it’s the right thing to do.’

 

he takes to the army tentatively. takashi excels in fighting one-on-one, and is always towards the top when it comes to shooting, but he’s got the resilience and the perfect grin-and-bear-it attitude to face the horrors. the commanders look at him with appraising eyes.

‘shiro,’ the sergeant says, ‘do you speak japanese?’

‘ _hai_ ,’ takashi replies.

‘good. you’re going undercover.’

 

takashi likes to think he’s okay at undercover. he’s a little terrible at lying so he sticks as close to the truth as possible, tells everyone he’s a poor orphan looking after an even poorer, sadder orphan. tells everyone he wants peace. tells everyone he’s sorry when he snaps their neck.

 

and then GALRA get him.

 

he’s not really sure how long GALRA have him, but they at least have the decency to anaesthetise him whilst they practice on him in an abandoned warehouse. the place is open-plan, with only rickety stairs separating him from freedom.

‘take the left arm,’ someone says. he looks like a mad scientist. ‘i want to try my creation. should fit someone of his size.’

‘jesus, that's gonna kill him in this state. later.’

 

experiment one gives takashi something like an asthma attack.

experiment two consists of them injecting _something_ into him, and it fucks up both his eyesight and hearing. everything’s a little more muted, more blurry, and he has to strain to listen.

he’s left panting and gasping at the third experiment, which makes him vomit blood. a sharp pain stabs at his stomach and he feels weaker by the minute.

they’re halfway through experiment four- what he guesses are daily injections of another unidentified liquid- when the entrance explodes.

‘shit,’ the mad scientist mutters, ‘fucking shit.’

he grabs a knife and clutches it to his chest.

‘leave it,’ the one in charge calls to the scientist, ‘it’ll die soon, anyway.’

‘i’ll have to start again,’ the scientist says with venom and he makes to unbuckle one of takashi’s straps before deciding against it. even though he’s sickly and frail, takashi could still physically overpower the guy just by lying on him.

‘hey,’ a familiar voice calls, ‘hey, fucking nazi guy.’

takashi turns hazily, unable to snap his head with the speed he wants.

‘punk,’ he says as keith throws a knife with absolute precision into the throat of the scientist.

‘what the _fuck_ did they do to you, sergeant?’ the commander says with horror when keith marches back into camp with around thirty captured soldiers in tow.

‘eh.’ takashi says. ‘i’m probably not physically fit anymore. got painful cramps in my stomach, i’m getting deafer by the day and everything’s fuzzy.’

‘shame. you’re a damn fine soldier.’

 

takashi beams as keith is practically adopted by the squadron.

they all love the boy, with his dark gallows humour, remarkable aim and southern drawl. the ones who he led the charge to rescue pile thanks after thanks on him, and takashi stops being proud of keith once he notices how uncomfortable his brother is getting.

‘thank you, lucky,’ the final soldier says as he claps keith on the back. ‘i guess not all the japanese are bad!’

‘lucky?’ takashi asks.

‘they call me lucky because it rhymes with ko-gan-ee. stupid white people don’t know how to pronounce my name.’ keith mutters in rapid japanese and takashi laughs.

‘i like it.’

‘of course you would,’ keith says with a sigh, ‘you like it because i’m not fighting them in the tents.’

 

the commander sidles up to takashi the next night.

it’s clear that takashi really isn’t fit for the military anymore, but he says something about dr ulaz, and a serum, and how takashi would be the test run to see if the serum works, and takashi could leave healthy and happy. and takashi thinks about being strapped down to a table again, injected with a serum he doesn’t know the contents of again, a lab rat _again._

he says yes because he doesn’t have anything to lose.

 

they lose dr ulaz that night, though.

the serum is successful, totally successful, and takashi emerges stronger, healthier, enhanced, even. he’s gone beyond peak-human fitness, and it’s alarming but exciting. he thinks maybe he can be a better soldier.

and then GALRA sneak in through the window, shoot dr ulaz in the heart and flee in terror once takashi pursues them. takashi watches in horror as the agent grins, mouth dripping with blood, spit flying as she hisses ‘vrepit sa’ and swallows the cyanide pill.

 

‘you were meant to be the first proper trial run. we had faith in dr ulaz, he was a genius, and we knew it would work. lucky’s tried out little doses, nothing quite like what you got, and they all went well so we gave you the only serum we had because you’re a good man, shiro, we didn’t want to see you go home broken. the plan was to create a supersoldier. maybe call him captain america, or something, to really figurehead the army. give everyone someone to fight with, because uncle sam isn’t cutting it anymore. but now that it’s you.’

‘sir. i’m japanese.’

‘yes.’

‘i’m not sure i could rally the apple-pie american troops.’

‘no. no you won’t.’

 

so they christen shiro ‘paladin’, and give out his name as ‘captain white’- the commander lights up when takashi tells him that shiro means white and keith barks out a laugh when shiro re-enacts it later. a helmet is fitted for him,  and it covers his whole face, leaving only the chin and eyes free. the nose bridge is perhaps a little higher, and the material surrounding the eyes is a little heavier to make up for shiro’s unmistakably japanese eyes, but the commander marvels at shiro’s pale skin and strong jaw all the time.

besides. he’s big and tall and no-one would look closely at him.

they give him a giant shield, vibranium and painted as a target in the american flag colours. they give him a team consisting of whatever soldiers he picks, and they get nicknamed the blade of marmora. they give him big, public operations that don’t require stealth or finesse. he barges into GALRA hideouts, steals their information and blows up the place. he gets to work easily, punching and kicking and flipping and cutting and slicing and snapping, but he always emerges as the clear victor.

 

occasionally, they do give him stealth missions and that’s when the garish uniform comes off, and takashi shirogane comes out to play.

keith is always, always, _always_ sent out first. it’s a tactical move, because he’s small and scrappy and smart, and terrifyingly ruthless. takashi’s seen it first hand, hell, he even taught keith how to pickpocket and trick. the blade don’t see what keith does, but they’ve never had to encounter a guard or security once keith gets back.

takashi hates it. he hates how he doesn’t quite fit in with all of this- keith takes to the army like a duck to water, any authority issues he had gone because he finally has a chance to shine, to use his talents, to fuel out his anger. if takashi was honest to anyone but himself, he’d say quietly that he feels he’s too moral for this job. sees a little too much in black and white.

 

but it doesn’t matter because a week later, the blade are poised to take down a nazi maniac with red skin and a glowing alien cube and keith jumps to grab takashi’s hand and the railing slips just as he flies through the air, and that is how keith falls off a train speeding over a goddamn mountain. shiro stares numbly at how peaceful keith looks as he falls, limbs spread out as if relaxing in a pool, all the air pushed out of his chest so he can’t even scream.

 

he watches the nazi maniac tell him the place is packed full of explosives rigged to blow, vaporise whilst gripping the alien cube with glee, sees the alien cube disappear into the sea and thinks, _fuck it._ the plane is on auto-pilot, and shiro tentatively turns the controls. left and right doesn’t work, but up and down do.

‘commander,’ he calls in.

‘paladin, where are you-’

‘the plane is rigged to blow, sir, and it’s on course to new york. i’m in the middle of nowhere, and red skull’s gone. vaporised. lucky’s dead. no-one left on the plane but me.’

‘paladin, you’re a damn good soldier-’

‘-and i’ll be an even better matyr figure, if that’s what you want. but i see somewhere where i can destroy the tesseract and blow up these explosives without harming anyone.’

‘you’ll die.’

‘it’s the right thing to do.’

 

the commander cuts out of conversation a little while later. shiro closes his eyes and braces for impact and it’s cold.

 

so cold.

* * *

 

**2.**

 

they find keith ‘lucky’ kogane coughing up blood on the snowy mountain, left arm twisted and close to snapping off, eyes dim and on the brink of dying.

‘excellent.’ haggar says. ‘this is excellent.’

 

_longing_

 

keith’s head cocks at the russian syllables that flow off the tongue of the agent. it’s so closely associated with water and electricity and pain and-

‘no,’ he says, ‘no, no-’

 

_rusted_

 

‘take his left arm,’ haggar says with a smirk. ‘i want to try zola’s creation, and who better to try it on than the fucking jap that buried a knife in his throat?’

keith remembers that shiro had been sedated- he doesn’t get that luxury ( _butbetteryouthantakashi)._ his arm had barely healed over- there’s no use saving an arm that’s dead weight on the verge of snapping off, but there had been sick enjoyment in his captor’s eyes as they watched keith’s barely enhanced body attempt to heal it up. but they do give him a scrap of leather to bite down on though, and keith gags at how wet with his own blood it is.

and now someone gets out a knife, a blunt butter knife that’s greasy and unwashed.

and now

now

 

_seventeen_

 

injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after injection after

 

_daybreak_

 

‘what’s your name?’ haggar asks.

keith spits blood at her shoes.

‘keith kogane,’ he says with a set jaw.

‘pity.’ she says. ‘wipe him again.’

 

_furnace_

 

he wakes up with a metal arm and vomits. it’s big and bulky ( _rightsizefortakashi betteryouthantakashi whostakashi)_ and scrapes against his bone unpleasantly. the scientists note his reaction with grins because it works, and promise him they’ll fix it.

‘what’s your name?’ a gleeful hunched figure asks.

‘my name,’ he says. ‘my name. luck-no. my name. i can’t remember.’

‘good,’ haggar says. ‘we’re getting somewhere.’

 

_nine_

 

‘soldier,’ his handler says in russian, ‘you have a mission.’

 

_benign_

 

the soldier is sent to england. he has no problems speaking english, nor does he have any problems with snapping the neck of a commander who cries out ‘keith’.

‘qui est keith,’ he asks the one in charge of wiping down the chair.

‘nimeni,’ they reply.

‘er sagte mir,’ he says his handler. shakes his head. ‘i have a texan accent.’

‘you shouldn’t,’ she says with a frown. ‘wipe him.’

‘please don’t, please, i hate it-’

‘that doesn’t matter.’

 

_homecoming_

 

the soldier trains with ferocity. the soldier learns languages and social cues and how to kill anyone and perfects his perfect aim. the soldier tells the scientist what the arm feels like and they work to make it as comfortable as possible- it cannot hinder the mission. whatever the mission is.

‘the mission told me i couldn’t kill her in her _jia_ ,’ the soldier says to his handler. ‘what is a _jia_.’

‘a home,’ his handler says.

‘i don’t understand.’

‘consider me your home.’

‘but,’ the soldier says. blinks. head shakes. his arm whirrs with agitation. ‘but i could kill you.’

‘стоять, солдат,’ his handler says blasely.

‘i want to- i should _fucking kill you right now-_ ’

‘wipe him.’

 

‘what’s your name?’

‘soldier.’

‘no. you are the asset.’

‘i am the asset.’

‘wipe him.’

 

_one_

 

i am keith, the asset thinks one day, and it is good that takashi is not in my place.

he doesn’t voice it, because he knows that something bad happens whenever he voices something he has not been told that day. but it doesn’t matter, because he’s wiped and put in the ice once he’s debriefed.

 

_freight car_

 

that one burns his mind the most. the first time he is told this, he thinks of falling off something into a mountain, into a snowy ravine and now he thinks of falling into a trance. a sleep. a place where the red soldier emerges with deadly efficiency.

 

they perfect their wiping methods- the asset’s missions gets longer and longer until he's capable of maintaining two weeks without a single memory or trigger. they paint a red star on his arm, call him the red soldier and they send him off to a remote area to train the new recruits.

 

‘you have turned out much better than we thought,’ haggar says one day, before the asset goes in the ice.

the asset stares at her. haggar thinks it's funny, that the asset doesn't know who she is but still stares at her with such burning hatred.

 

* * *

**3.**

  


lance mclain is three years old when he is picked.

 

there’s not much to it. he’s at a birthday party, one of his friends, and there’s generally a lot of noise. he and his friends are all screaming with happiness because there’s cake and they can eat it and it’s exciting, and they don’t even notice when the adults start screaming as well until there’s silence.

his mom always told him to find an authority figure and ask for help in finding his parents, so he makes his way over to a tall man in a crisp suit and says, ‘mama,’ and he is whisked away.

 

they don’t find his mama or papa or hermana, but they do enlist him in a ballet academy. at least. he thinks it’s a ballet academy.

sometimes he can hear guns and see targets and taste poison in his food, but he brushes it off and sets his mind on learning the languages they drill into him.

 

‘to help you move more fluidly and gracefully,’ his teacher says, ‘we will teach you how to fight.’

lance knows what it’s like to be punched and kicked, and he punches and kicks back. he’s admonished initially, because he fights scrappy and uncontrolled, and he’s retaught- recalibrated- into deadly grace, long movements, flips and tricks and punches. his teacher smiles coldly and shatters all the bones in his hand, gives him something to drink and he is healed again in days. he feels stronger.

 

‘to help you learn how to spot,’ his teacher says, ‘you’re going to learn how to shoot.’

lance is a natural. he shoots quickly, and after a few days he barely takes time to aim at the target before shooting five headshots in a row, switching hands with ease and shooting just as accurately with his left hand.

‘very good,’ his teacher says. ‘do it again.’

 

the fourth time, they do not give him a target. they give him a realistic mannequin with a potato sack over its head, and lance only hesitates a little when he shoots.

‘you froze.’ his teacher says. ‘i did not teach you to freeze.’

‘no, madam.’

‘do it again.’

lance looks at the mannequin. it is creepily realistic, lance thinks, because there are splatters of blood leaking through the potato sack.

 

he does not hesitate the fifth time, nor the sixth time, nor the seventh time where the mannequin (lance does not think they are mannequins anymore) is replaced with a kicking and screaming woman.

‘shoot.’

he does.

 

‘you must exude sensuality, passion and love in your dancing. i see you all fight and dance and i see no love. nothing. this is not acceptable. we need the best performance. so i will teach you how to fuck.’

lance nods. it makes sense.

 

the teacher introduces him to a masked figure a week later.

he isn’t tall, with lance maybe having an inch or two on him since his last growth spurt, but he looks stronger. older. armed. lance spots at least three knives and two guns on him, but he knows that this masked figure must be carrying more.

he doesn’t move.

‘lance,’ his teacher says. ‘this is red.’

‘hi red.’ lance says. red does not reply.

‘russian,’ his teacher corrects. ‘red should only speak in russian.’

‘Здравствуйте,’ lance says. he gets a nod in reply.

‘seduce him,’ his teacher says.

‘he is a man,’ lance says. ‘we’re easy to seduce.’

there’s a brief pause.

‘not him.’

 

lance isn’t really sure how to go about his.

red won’t take off his mask, and lance definitely isn’t going to make a move towards taking it off because he has a feeling any physical brawl with red will leave him with a snapped neck.

‘you have nice hair.’ lance offers stupidly in english, and red fixes a gaze so intense that it screams _what the fuck_ through the goggles he wears.

 

thursday nights are always sparring nights. lance heads down to the familiar interrogation room where his opponent waits, and he doesn’t spare a glance at the two-way mirror where his teacher watches.

‘fuck,’ his opponent says, ‘fuck, you’re mcclain.’

‘yeah,’ lance replies.

‘better to go down with a fight,’ his opponent says.

he doesn’t, really. it takes ten seconds for lance to swoop up, grab him in a chokehold by the thighs and smash his head on the corner of the table. it’s hard, but not hard enough, and lance isn’t sure whether his opponent is dead or alive.

but lance stands up anyway, straightens the hem of his shirt and waits for his teacher to come in. he doesn’t expect red to come in as well, but he hides it well.

‘you did well.’ his teacher says.

‘no.’ red says. his voice is low, raspy (from being unused, lance would wager).

‘no?’ lance says. anger burns within him. he’s not used to being told he’s wrong.

‘you fight- delicately, beautifully. you’re all graceful lines, fluidity, you extend fully.’

‘i’m a ballerina.’

a short bark of a laugh.

‘is that what we call it these days?’ red says, turning to the teacher who looks horrified. lance doesn’t understand.

‘wipe him,’ she says to someone. ‘tell haggar-’

‘don’t you fucking dare,’ red says in english and there’s a whirring noise, ‘don’t you wipe me until i teach this boy how to fight proper. none of your prancy gymnastics shit.’

‘stand _down-’_

‘you’ve kept him at a low level for what purpose? he's talented, more talented than any other shit you've offered me. better a- a ballerina that can dance more than once.’

lance gapes. no-one talks to his teacher like that.

she sets her jaw. turns on her heel. leaves.

red sets his gaze dead on lance, and lance understands what it must be like to be the hunted one.

 

red fights like a fucking dream, though. lance learns quickly- learns to not rely on fancy flips and to instead keep low, to utilise his stature to jump higher, to punch from slightly further away but to not fully extend himself. teaches him how to combine his beauty and elegance with red’s brutal efficiency.

but lance learns best from watching red, he realises, because he gets too distracted fighting him up close.

 

‘you’re coming along nicely, lance.’ his teacher says the next thursday. it took him five seconds to down yelena, and he’s grimly satisfied at removing his only contender in the place.

‘it’s been sixteen years.’ lance says. ‘if i wasn’t, i’d be dead.’

‘and you’re not. in fact, you’re the best student we’ve ever had.’

 

the friday morning, lance wakes up handcuffed to the bed.

‘kinky,’ he says to the looming figure in the corner. ‘but i’m meant to seduce you, not the other way round.’

there’s a tilt to red’s head.

‘oh, for fucks sake,’ lance says, and he slips out of the handcuffs with ease. red looks pleased, but how lance can tell he has no idea but because red still has on that ridiculous mask and goggles.

‘i will be wiped today.’ red says.

‘that means absolutely nothing to me,’ lance says.

‘tomorrow, i will not remember you. seduce me then.’

‘okay.’ lance says.

 

he tries.

lance picks a white shirt and trains where he knows red is watching him, until he sweats through it. he runs his hand through his hair. he wears grey sweatpants and no underwear and he fights with the beauty and speed he’s been taught. he fights like how he would imagine red to fuck- hard, quick, methodical.

he turns to red once he’s done.

‘wanna spar, big boy?’ he asks with a coquettish grin, and red strides forward. lance gets his ass handed to him, but it’s more even than any of the previous times he’s tried and-

well, it’s not his fault if he’s half-hard by the end of the fight.

‘again.’ red says.

 

the third time they fight, lance knocks off red’s goggles. red doesn’t seem to care particularly, but lance steps back.

‘you have really pretty eyes,’ lance says.

‘pretty hair, pretty eyes,’ red says dryly. ‘these compliments are not going to make me fuck you.’

‘you remembered that,’ lance points out, ‘you told me you wouldn’t remember anything.’

red’s eyes narrow in confusion.

‘i- i don’t.’

‘again,’ lance says, more out of pity than anything.

 

the next day, red is not there.

his teacher nods at lance, meaning success. but red is not there, red did not spend the night in his bed, red-

‘you made him remember you.’ the teacher said. ‘so he has been recalled.’

‘oh.’ lance says. ‘i failed?’

‘you will receive a new target. we were too ambitious with the soldier. but no matter. you are coming along _very_ nicely.’

 

he graduates three years later. his final test is simple- complete a mission in forty-eight hours. he passes it in twelve, and he’s sitting on the helicopter back home, blood staining his hands and he remembers red- his only ever failed mission- rasping   _is that what we call it these days_ and lance does think, what the fuck is he doing. he barely dances anymore. burning down a hospital does not result in being principal dancer in swan lake, but he doesn't know any other life than this.

death. destruction. chaos. following orders.

 

‘you have backup on this mission,’ hangar tells him a year later.

‘i don't need backup,’ lance retorts.

‘he isn't for you.’ hangar replies.

lance hates her, with a burning, flaming passion because he is _capable_. he completes his mission with ease, slipping into his target’s bedroom and stealing his files. his handler is pleased, and gives him the night off to relax. forty-seven successful missions in a row this year, lance calculates, and that makes one hundred and ninety-five overall.

he flips through the file out of curiosity in his hotel room.

it talks of atom bombs and laser cannons and whilst lance doesn't understand how's it done, he does understand the capacity of death.

he feels a little sick.

‘stop looking, sweetheart,’ drawls a texan accent over the comms, an unfamiliar voice tinged with familiarity, ‘and focus. you got incoming.’

‘red?’ lance asks tentatively, and there's silence.

‘targets eliminated.’ russian. steady, stoic. same raspiness.

‘what the fuck,’ lance says.

 

he is told his mission went well, and when lance asks why he had two handlers, haggar’s smile freezes.

‘explain,’ she says.

‘one texan guy,’ lance says, ‘ _and_ red. the red soldier, i mean. if this is because you don't trust me or something-’

‘you are dismissed.’

 

he is introduced to VOLTRON when his handler tells him to dismantle it.

‘an empire must crumble from the inside for it to be truly fallen’ she says, ‘so go to them. pretend to be them. then _destroy_ them. i trust only you with this mission. you are the only one loyal enough.’

 

when lance pretends to defect, he is tested to the maximum of his ability. but commander iverson approves three months later and agent coran _beams_ with excitement.

lance isn't used to a lot of it- he cracks a lot of jokes and loves making other people laugh, so

he reports back to his handler one night and feels bitter at the chastisement he receives for slipping in a snarky comment.

he gets sent on missions which he completes, and he doesn't feel like crying when he's done. there's no need to snap necks and shoot and poison in VOLTRON, instead focusing on saving lives and bringing people in for justice. he kills his comrades, those who trained with him, and instead of feeling satisfied at killing those who could have surpassed him, he feels satisfied at stopping the horror he knows they'll inflict.

 

his first solo job is to escort dr garrett (‘please call me hunk, dude, you’re like...my age’) from his lab to a fancy event because dr garrett is at risk of capture.

‘for what?’ lance asks.

‘i’m trying to recreate the super-soldier serum that got used on captain white,’ hunk says, ‘but i’m like. not the best at biology and kind of working off of nothing. but i’m getting somewhere, and GALRA kind of want me to-’

‘GALRA?’

‘yeah, dude, they’re the ones trying to kidnap me.’

it’s a job that changes his life, because five minutes into a conversation with hunk and lance thinks, _huh is this what a friend is like_ and GALRA wanted to kidnap him and-

well. lance knows what they do to their captives. they become training practice.

 

lance stops checking in.

 

and lance feels sick again when he sits in iverson’s presentation on the G2 and KGB dual project, which iverson nicknames the ‘red room’. they've seen dozens of agents emerge, all good at their jobs, but delusional.

‘they seem to believe they are dancers,’ coran says.

but there's been a lull- iverson suspects they're making their agents better. they turn to lance.

‘we know this must be difficult for you, but we need all the information you have on this project. i can arrange a team-’

‘i can tell you everything.’ lance says. confesses. ends with a plea for mercy and to officially, properly defect to VOLTRON.

‘well,’ coran says. ‘that was unexpected.’

* * *

**4.**

 

hunk thinks the serum is going well.

but it’s late at night, and he’s getting tired and his decision making skills aren’t necessarily the best anymore, so he injects a little bit of it into himself- just to see what would happen. he didn’t want to have people eager to be experimented on, anyway, because he trusts himself alone.

and he gapes as his right arm turns green.

‘fuck,’ hunk says.

 

so he notes it down carefully in his scientific journal ( _I DID SOMETHING BAD AND NOW MY ARM IS GREEN WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS WHY I DON’T DO BIOLOGY_ ) and waits for his arm to show any further out-of-the-ordinary symptoms. the green fades overnight and hunk exhales. his doctors say he’s in peak physical form, because he’s strong and tall and has absolutely no health issues so hunk thinks _thank fuck. i have dodged a bullet_.

 

he ducks into starbucks, picks up an iced caramel latte and he nearly cries when someone brushes his shoulder and sends half of it flying. it begins to rain as he walks home, and his hair gets wet. someone laughs at him when he slips. a woman gets catcalled on the street and hunk sees green.

his right arm pulsates and hunk watches in horror as it grows, big and green and-

‘whattheshit,’ hunk says in one breath as everyone screams and runs away, ‘ohmygod.’

his anger slips so his arm returns to normal and he runs home.

 

‘lance, buddy, you gotta bring me in, i’m big and green and scary and my doctor lied to me, i think i can only trust VOLTRON doctors because oh my god, i’m a _monster_.’

‘dr garrett,’ coran says amusedly.

‘did i get the wrong number?’ hunk asks. ‘doesn’t matter, coran, sir, you gotta bring me in.’

‘of course.’

 

they can’t.

GALRA find him first and that...well, hunk has no idea how that happened. maybe they saw the videos of him on social media. he doesn’t really care, because one agent has given hunk a bloody eye, the other one has a magnet attached to his giant green arm that pulls it down to the ground where the other magnet lies, and the final agent is perusing hunk’s makeshift lab.

‘this it?’ she asks as she lifts a beaker carefully labelled PALADIN SUPER-SOLDIER SERUM with a clear liquid and layers of plastic wrap sealing it.

‘no,’ hunk lies.

‘well,’ she says. ‘you have a weird way of labelling things, dr garrett.’

‘it’s actually based on the alphabetisation of-’

‘oh my god, shut up.’

he gets punched in the stomach.

‘if this isn’t the serum,’ the agent says and she prowls around the apartment until she’s in front of him, ‘then it shouldn’t matter if you drink it.’

‘those are not the orders, zethrid.’ an agent says, darkly, a warning, and hunk nods in agreement.

‘we can handle the consequences either way. if it’s not the serum, he’ll probably die. if it is the serum, we know how to create soldiers out of broken boys.’

‘i’m not a broken boy,’ hunk wants to say, but it comes out as ‘hngh’ instead.

‘open wide,’ zethrid says and hunk resolutely presses his lips together. zethrid grins with a dark malice and punches hunk in the jaw- hunk’s mouth falls open as his head snaps back to where it was, and zethrid grabs him by the mouth and pours the serum into his mouth.

the door gets smashed down and VOLTRON agents appear in the doorway, all underprepared and surprised.

‘take him.’ zethrid says.

hunk gets knocked out a second later.

 

he wakes up in a fucking cave.

‘this is not okay,’ hunk says. ‘why the fuck am i in a cave.’

‘beats me,’ comes a quiet voice from the corner. ‘but also. hi.’

hunk screams. he blinks and he’s suddenly not the one in control of his body- he’s watching something else, something _other_ take the reins of his giant, green, hulking mass and-

‘oh my god,’ the quiet voice says, ‘that is so cool.’

 

hunk returns half an hour later, when he’s stopped freaking out and has calmed down quite a bit, and to his horror, he doesn’t have any clothes.

‘gross,’ the quiet voice says, ‘i’m underage.’

‘i am _so_ sorry,’ hunk says, ‘that’s never happened to all of me before. usually it’s just my arm- i say usually, it happened once. yesterday. today. how long have i been here?’

‘i’m not sure.’

‘great, absolutely fantastic-’

‘i’m pidge.’

‘i’m hunk.’

‘wanna help me get out of here?’

‘god, yes.’

 

once they find something for hunk to cover himself with, pidge tells hunk all about the cave they’re in.

hunk takes one look at pidge once she crawls out the shadowed corner and thinks, _oh god i’m in a cave with katie holt of holt industries._ she’s covered in bruises- not big ones, just small ones, and she looks kind of ill and sickly.

their cave is in the middle of a camp, and everyone is heavily armed. they get food three times a day, and there’s a workshop when you go further into the cave.

‘there were some angry people,’ pidge says, ‘and they took me. i think they might be terrorists, actually, but i don’t want to assume.’

‘got you.’

‘and you know, since holt industries _was_ the biggest weapons manufacturer, they want me to make a missile for them that would blow up any city.’

‘but. you guys converted to producing clean energy like. ten years ago.’

‘i know, right? i was eight when we made our last missile.  i don’t know if their tv’s are up to speed, though.’

 

hunk whistles.

pidge has somehow managed to put together a small iron suit from scraps of the missile, and it’s big and chunky and where the _hell_ has she been hiding it, but it’s a chance at escaping.

‘this is amazing,’ hunk says. ‘how the shit are you going to power it?’

‘long story,’ pidge says, ‘but basically. you know how we use an arc reactor to power our company.’

‘yeah, it's a technological _marvel_.’

‘i have an one in my chest.’

‘oh my god.’

 

it’s barely another day, when pidge dons the suit- they figure hunk will be fine, since he’s a giant green monster occasionally- and it powers up well. they’re ready to head outside and take down the camp when there’s screaming and gunfire.

‘fucking matt,’ pidge hisses and she tries to run outside. hunk giggles, because the iron suit is not made for speed, and quickly overtakes her at a casual walking pace. blanches as he realises he’s walking out of safety, but he figures that since pidge knows what’s happening, he must be safe.

he’s not sure if he’s surprised at the sight of a grinning boy- who looks scarily like pidge- with two pairs of guns.

‘hi! is katie there?’

‘you won’t miss her,’ hunk promises. a bullet whizzes past and nicks hunk in the arm and green hunk smash what enemy smash no-

 

‘what the fuck,’ matt says. he’s watching this guy- dr garrett, genius- turn into a rage monster and just start wrecking their attackers with glee when a small suit, akin to the tin man trudges out of the cave.

‘hey bro,’ pidge says. ‘check this out.’

a flamethrower bursts out of the sleeve.

 

they get hunk some clothes and get the two on a quinjet back to new york. hunk’s calls to lance go missed. he does expect to debrief, though, seeing as matt keeps looking at him nervously, so he lies back.

‘do i really turn green?’ he asks curiously. matt nods.

‘huh,’ hunk says. ‘that’s pretty cool.’

 

matt drops pidge off somewhere in holt industries with a warning to not work too hard and pidge takes it in stride. hunk grins, thinks of his own sister back in samoa and nearly cries at the thought of having to tell her that he sometimes goes big and green.

coran greets hunk the second he lands.

‘so,’ coran says. ‘you’re a superhero now.’

 

he’s finishes his ‘debrief’ pretty soon, and he’s on his way to medical for some tests when he turns on his heel. matt’s trailing him, the whole time, and hunk ignores the guy.

‘is lance okay?’ hunk asks coran. ‘is he undercover? he hasn’t answered my calls.’

‘ah.’ coran says. ‘lance. turns out he was a sleeper agent for GALRA. albeit a very, _very_ reluctant one. he’s being re-tested.’

so hunk shrugs, makes his way to medical because he has bigger issues than lance’s even greyer morality, and rattles off the components of his failed superserum to the incompetent scientists working with VOLTRON.

‘oh, that’s pretty smart,’ one says.

‘i know,’ hunk replies, ‘until it turned me BIG and GREEN.’

 

and the second hunk sets off, coran grabs matt by the shoulder.

‘you’re booked on a flight to the arctic,’ coran says. ‘we leave in twenty minutes, emergency bags already on the quinjet.’

‘i literally _just_ rescued my sister from terrorists, can i not have some family time-’

‘i’m coming with you.’

‘oh shit.’

coran never leaves VOLTRON hq if he can, because he’s too important. knows too many secrets, in control of too many things. so matt figures a miracle has happened to make coran leave new york, like the arrival of a god or-

‘we found the tesseract.’

or that, matt thinks. that works.

 

hunk gets let out of medical three days later with a diagnosis of ‘we have no fucking clue’ and he makes his way to the holding bay immediately. it’s not hard to spot lance, because he’s in the cushiest cell and he’s let in without a second glance.

‘hunk, my man, you’re just as tall and handsome as always and i missed you,’ lance says. he’s maybe two weeks into his second interrogation and twenty minutes into his dosage of the truth serum hunk helped pioneer.

‘i missed you too, bud.’

‘hey hunk,’ lance says a little sleepily, ‘i think i hate GALRA.’

‘man,’ hunk says. ‘me too.’

* * *

**5.**

 

the first thing shiro hears is a quiet humming of a radio.

his eyes flutter open ( _itswarmsowarm)_ and he stares blankly at the white ceiling. the curtains are open, sunlight streaming in, but the light-bulb is on and shiro thinks, _that’s wasted money._ he’s groggy though, so he forgives it, instead choosing to sit up slowly.

_just an absolutely gorgeous day here at ebbett’s field. the phillies have managed to tie up at 4-4. but the dodgers have three men on!_

the air smells a little different too. dirtier. the mattress is nice, soft and springy and not at all what shiro would expect. but he figures, hey, the hospital really splurged out. they found him after all.

although.

_wouldn’t the youngster like a hit here to return the favour?_

the outside seems a little too static, and the radio seems to be commentating a game that. that shiro can’t quite place.

the door swings open.

‘good morning!’ says a woman cheerily and shiro stares at her in disbelief as she checks her watch. ‘or should i say, afternoon?’

shiro tokes in her hair- loose and long. too long for regulation, and definitely not tied back like the nurses that worked in his hospitals. her tie is long and wide, a man’s tie. and.

the bra.

shiro’s not an idiot, he’s seen a satin-cupped bra before, he’s fooled around. but no woman he’s ever known would have been caught with the cups of her bra showing through an ill-fitting shirt (which should have been crisper, tighter, a different material), nor could it even happen. and the woman’s breasts sit lower, an angle that shiro can’t describe as anything but odd.

‘where am i?’ shiro asks.

‘you’re in a recovery room in new york city.’

_the dodgers take the lead, 8-4. oh, dodgers! everyone’s on their feet._

‘where am i really?’ shiro asks. her smile turns fake.

‘i’m afraid i don’t know what you mean.’ she says. shiro smiles to himself. the accent’s wrong.

‘the game,’ shiro says. ‘may, nineteen forty-one. i was there. where am i really?’

he stands up. he’s a little tempted to throw in a dig about her bra, but he still has some manners, goddamnit.

‘captain white,’ the woman says. shiro closes his eyes.

the door bursts open again and two men dressed head-to-toe in unfamiliar armour, carrying giant, unfamiliar guns surround him.

‘come on, guys,’ shiro says as he throws them against the wall. it crumbles, clearly a fake, and he turns and stares at the agent, gives her a disapproving look, before jumping out of the set and running down the hallway.

there’s twists and turns and shouts of surprise as he runs out- there’s telephones and tight suits and men start chasing him. shiro pushes them aside easily as ‘code 113, i repeat, code 113’ echoes throughout the building with a clarity that shiro doesn’t expect.

he follows the noise outside only-

only the city has changed.

there’s bright lights and new cars and colours and crowds of people holding small devices up and sounds and smells and logos and brands and tall, tall buildings and-

‘at ease, soldier,’ says an authoritative voice as sleek black cars surround him.

a tall, angry man makes his way towards shiro. he’s got an eyepatch, and shiro giddily thinks _yar, matey_ as he stares at the man’s weirdly perfect triangular goatee.

‘sorry about the show back there,’ the man says. ‘but we thought it best to break this to you slowly.’

‘break what?’

‘you’ve been asleep, cap. for over seventy years.’

 

pidge whistles as matt trudges home.

‘big day?’ she asks, and matt throws the finger at her.

‘you got kidnapped by terrorists and escaped by building some suit made of iron,’ he says. ‘focus on yourself.’

‘that your way of saying the mission is super cool but also classified?’

‘yes.’

‘damn. i’m making popcorn and watching a disney movie. wanna join in?’

‘ _yes._ ’

‘also, hunk is coming over tomorrow. we’re gonna make my suit better.’

‘katie, you know i gotta report that to coran, right?’

‘oh, it’s okay. coran gave me permission.’

‘...’

‘...’

‘we found paladin.’

‘you’re serious.’

‘yeah.’

‘holy shit.’

* * *

 

**6.**

 

a month passes.

‘so,’ coran says to matt. ‘shiro’s going to begin missions soon, but he needs a team.’

‘right.’

‘he wants your input.’ coran says gingerly, and matt lights up. he recommends katie in a heartbeat, then tentatively suggests hunk- they’re all uneasy of hunk’s green alter-ego, but hunk seems relatively in control of him. he offers lance as well, and coran nods, admits that lance and shiro had already met and shiro had approved of his sniping.

‘lance always did prefer sniping to covert ops,’ matt says. ‘and you?’ coran asks. ‘i know you hate doing this. my job. want to get back out on the field?’

‘god, yes,’ matt says. coran grins.

‘i’ll put in a request for your equipment,’ coran says. ‘welcome back, falcon.’

* * *

**7.**

 

six months pass pretty quickly.

 

‘there’s a compromised cruise ship,’ says rolo. ‘they were sending up their last payload ninety-three minutes ago, when pirates got them.’

‘pirates.’ says shiro.

‘yeah.’

‘okay. any demands?’

‘a billion and a half.’

pidge whistles. ‘why so much?’

‘it’s VOLTRON tech,’ lance says lowly. ‘and we’re gonna get it back.’

‘how many pirates?’ shiro asks rolo.

‘thirty-five,’ rolo says, ‘all spread out. led by this guy, sendak. he’s at the top of interpol’s red notice, and has a rep for maximum kill-casualties.’

‘hostages?’

‘all VOLTRON.’

‘stealth mission, then,’ shiro says. he looks at katie and hunk. ‘you two stay here, keep piloting this helicopter. you’ll be our eyes in the sky, and our getaway. rolo, you lead your team, take out the top floor. i’ll take the third floor- i guess that’s where sendak will be. lance-’

‘-i can take the second floor, it’s only ten, fifteen guys.’ lance says.

‘secure channel seven,’ rolo says into their communicator. shiro confirms and turns to lance, who’s poised to ask a question.

‘you need to get out more,’ lance says. ‘what did you do on saturday?’

‘well, all my friends are dead, so nothing much.’ shiro says wryly.

‘i don’t know if i’m ever gonna get over how funny you can be,’ lance says and shiro beams.

‘coming up on the drop zone,’ pidge calls. shiro nods.

‘you know,’ lance says under his breath where he knows only shiro can hear. ‘if you asked matt out, he’d probably say yes.’

‘i’m not gonna ask.’

‘too shy? scared?’

‘too busy,’ shiro says and jumps out the jet.

 

(‘why does he not wear his parachute,’ matt mutters to himself.)

 

shiro and rolo manage to meet up on the third floor outside the room with the hostages. they’re in position, rolo armed with a stun gun behind shiro, who’s got his shield outstretched and ready to take the brunt of any bullets fired at them, but lance is nowhere near them.

there’s a dry ‘ _hey sailor’_ over his comms and a whole lot of screaming and gunshots.

‘lance,’ shiro says. ‘we’ve got two minutes. what’s your status?’

silence.

‘lance,’ shiro repeats.

‘hang on,’ lance says, and there’s more noise.

‘you know what,’ he says a second later, not even fazed as they listen to him take out the remaining soldiers on the second floor, ‘just carry on without me.’

rolo blows open the door.

 

sendak’s men are all dead, and shiro waves off the team towards the helicopter, hostages in tow.

‘mclain missed the rendezvous point,’ rolo says quietly. ‘and hostiles are still in play.’

‘lance,’ shiro says into the comms, ‘lance, sendak’s still around. circle back and either help me, or help rolo. preferably rolo.’

silence.

‘lance, i swear to god-’

‘je croyais que tu étais plus qu'un bouclier,’ sendak says with a dark grin. shiro turns to face him with an exasperated look. rolo scurries away.

shiro takes off his mask and puts his shield on his back as he heads towards sendak.

‘on va voir.’

 

at some point, shiro manages to knock sendak into a room full of computers. he punches sendak a few times in the face, finally knocking him out, and he sits back on his haunches.

‘lance,’ he says into the comms and then stops because lance is staring at him with an unimpressed look.

‘this is awkward.’ he says.

‘what the hell are you doing.’ shiro says flatly.

‘i don’t have the same mission as you,’ lance says as he finishes backing up VOLTRON intel.

‘huh,’ shiro says. ‘iverson didn’t tell me that.’

‘iverson doesn’t tell you a lot of things,’ lance says.

 

the mission is a resounding success. shiro tries to chew out iverson for not warning him about lance’s other mission, but he just gets given a flat look and two weeks paid leave instead.

 

‘this is eiden.’

‘i need you in dc,’ iverson says. ‘we have more info on GALRA.’

‘i’ll be there in four hours.’ shay replies.

‘you’ve got three.’

iverson stops at a red light and bristles at the suspicious looks from the officers in the police car next to him. he pulls down the window of the car and leans through it.

‘wanna see my lease?’ he asks them, a little defeated.

‘we know who you are,’ the police officer replies, and iverson raises an eyebrow because he’s never had that response before. he turns to where the police officers are looking and barely has time to react before he's suddenly rammed by another car, sending him spinning. he looks up, sees a man with a gun, and swears.

iverson keeps swearing as he gains re-control of his car, quickly swerving and dodging through other lanes. he hears cars behind him begin to gain on him, and he counts at least ten before he manages to shake them minutes later.

he’s only just managed to eliminate the final two cars tailing him and presses on the pedal of his battered car, escaping along the now-empty highway.

he wipes the blood over his one good eye and gapes because there’s a masked figure, dressed all in black with a giant gun held casually in a metallic arm.

he lifts the gun.

shoots.

the car explodes.

iverson thinks it’s like a movie, watching the masked man casually step aside to avoid the flipping car that he’s trapped in, and feels his bones shake as the car screeches to a halt. luckily, the man doesn’t dare run towards him, instead sauntering forwards with a lowered gun and a swagger that screams confidence.

so he pulls out his laser-cutter and escapes by the time the figure gets to the car.

 

‘hey shiro,’ says regris, his neighbour. ‘you left your radio on.’

‘oh, sorry,’ says shiro.

shiro doesn’t have a radio.

 

‘i don’t remember giving you a key,’ shiro says as he opens the door. he pulls a face as he sees iverson sitting on his couch in the dark.

‘it’s nice that you’d think i need one.’ iverson says. his voice is strained.

‘well, you do own this place,’ shiro replies. he sets his bag down on the ground and turns on the light, and pulls a face at the sheen of blood masking iverson’s chest.

‘jesus,’ shiro says. ‘what happened, a car crash or something?’

‘hit the nail on the head,’ iverson says. he shifts. ‘listen, shiro, i’m gonna do this direct with you because i know how badly you took the whole, ‘you’ve been in the ice for seventy years’ thing.’

‘thanks,’ shiro says blandly.

‘the sendak mission,’ iverson says. he stands up with a grimace, but makes his way over to a frozen shiro.

‘lance managed to recover some data. there’s stuff on there that i want to talk to you about, one-on-one.’

‘oh,’ shiro says.

and iverson falls forward as three shots rip through the walls of shiro’s apartment and into iverson’s chest.

he’s on the ground immediately, and shiro can barely see through the dust to help up iverson. regris emerges into the room clutching a pistol.

‘captain white,’ regris says through gritted teeth, ‘i’m agent 13 of VOLTRON’s special services, i’m here to help.’

‘on who’s order?’ shiro asks tensely.

regris cocks his head towards iverson’s direction. he puts his gun down and falls to his knees, contacting VOLTRON through his comms. there’s a glint of metal outside, as a figure languidly makes his escape and shiro hisses a curse.

the figure pauses. cocks his head, as if he’s heard shiro’s muttered japanese and disappears before shiro’s eyes.

‘tell them i’m in pursuit of the shooter,’ shiro says and he sets off.

 

he smashes through his own window and jumps onto the ledge of the office building opposite, crashing through wall after wall. he would’ve caught up to anyone else by now, but he’s beginning to suspect that the shooter is just as enhanced as he is.

by the time he’s made it through the whole building and made it onto the outdoor roof, the shooter is falling into a graceful forward roll and prepared to jump off the building.

shiro throws his shield as a last minute resort with a grunt, and any normal person would’ve been hit in the back, downed instantly, arrested.

the figure turns quickly, right before he jumps off the roof, catches it with a single metal hand without any recoil, as easily as catching a pair of keys thrown at him, and looks at shiro with a tired gaze.

the figure has long greasy ink-black hair that whips around his masked face, with any features unidentifiable. shiro can only see the eyes- he’s smothered his eyes with black war-paint, making the violet ( _keith had violet eyes)_ of his eyes gleam with a resignation that seems pained.

shiro feels the wind knocked out of him when his shield is thrown back to him with more force and is unable to jump after the figure, too busy trying to stop his backwards momentum.

he doesn’t need to look to know that he’s lost the man.

 

days pass. it’s endless action and speed and pace, and he thanks a god he no longer believes in for shay’s endless supply of safehouses.

shiro found lance in the hospital where iverson was killed, and lance looks pleased to see him.

‘you gotta believe me,’ lance says, ‘they told me i was the only agent undercover in VOLTRON and i properly defected like, a year ago.’

‘i know,’ shiro says. lance huffs out a sigh.

they find matt in VOLTRON hq but then there’s a capture order alerted for paladin and hawkeye and they run, hopping from safe-house to safe-house. matt catches up to them eventually, and takes them to a remote place.

GALRA find them eventually, but only a small group- they manage to capture one agent and handcuff her to the table.

 

there’s a distress signal issued from VOLTRON’s triskelion office, and matt goes there alone only to return with one less wing.

‘some scary fucker ripped off my wing,’ he says in disbelief.

‘oh god,’ agent narti says, ‘i’m gonna die.’

 

‘so, to summarise,’ lance says. ‘GALRA have infiltrated VOLTRON, but iverson- who’s somehow alive- sent out enough warning for GALRA to be stopped. VOLTRON’s restarting. but there’s a master assassin who’s even better than me trying to kill all of us. and you-’ lance turns to look at a defiant narti- ‘are GALRA.’

‘yes.’ narti says. ‘so are you.’

lance rolls his eyes.

‘i’m really not.’

‘we were told you were,’ narti says, confused. ‘under deep, deep cover.’

‘yeah, my cover is so deep that i actually just thought fuck it, and became VOLTRON.’

‘our aim is to bring narti to iverson,’ shiro says, picking up on lance’s train of thought, ‘and then plan a way to help VOLTRON get rid of GALRA completely. we don’t know who’s on our side, so we’re going to have to wait for someone to contact us and tell us what’s happening.’

‘right,’ matt says. they’re driving along a highway towards coordinates of another safe-house that shay sent to them, and narti looks uneasy.

‘what’s up,’ lance says to narti.

‘i am worried,’ narti says. ‘i have spilt secrets.’

‘could be worse,’ lance replies. ‘better secrets than your blood.’

‘ _hawkeye_ ,’ narti hisses in russian and lance feels his blood freeze. ‘ _you know what they do to traitors like us._ ’

‘ _what,’_ lance replies in the same language. ‘ _they'll kill us?’_

 _‘they send the ghost,’_ narti says.

‘hey, matt,’ shiro says, oblivious. ‘when this is done, you wanna go grab a coffee? together? like a date?’

‘ask me when we’re not at constant risk of dying, and you’ll get a yes.’ matt replies.

there’s a thud on the roof of the car and all four people look up in horror- narti turns to lance with urgency, and all she can say is ‘take off my cuffs, please’ before a metal hand pulls her through the window and throws her out into an oncoming truck.

lance nearly freezes when he sees the familiar masked face staring back at him, but he moves the second the man on the roof disappears.

he crawls over the front seat, avoiding the bullet ripping through the car and wraps himself around matt. shiro looks up, clenches his jaw and pulls the brake handle, sending the car into a jolting stop that throws the man off the roof of their car.

they watch in horror as the man flips in the air, landing on his back but shifting angles to end up facing their car, metal arm dragging against the road to slow down his skidding.

‘shiro,’ lance says, ‘why the fuck did you not tell me the guy had a metal arm.’

‘what, do you know him?’ shiro asks indignantly.

‘i guess! he. well.’

lance gulps as the red soldier’s metal arm lifts from the ground, a visible indent left in the road. it whirs back into place and the red soldier stands up slowly. stares at them. his gaze fixes on lance.

‘oh my god,’ matt whispers, horrified. ‘you dated him, didn’t you.’

‘shut up,’ lance replies quickly, ‘it wasn’t like that. we didn’t _date_ -’

a hysterical laugh escapes from shiro and lance takes out the pistol from the glove compartment and aims it with a shaking hand at the head of the red soldier. he just wants to shoot, wants to survive, and he’s about to fire when a car from behind smashes into them, the force knocking the gun out of shiro’s hand and pushing them towards the waiting soldier.

‘we’re gonna die,’ matt says faintly, foot plastered to the brakes as they watch the red soldier jump and turn above their car, his feet shattering the rear window into tiny shards of glass. lance scrambles for the dropped gun as the red soldier smashes a hole into the windshield with his metal hand and rips out the steering wheel. lance takes the opportunity to shoot at the red soldier, but he nimbly jumps onto the car behind him with as ease.

‘fuck it,’ shiro says.

he gets his shield and pushes against the door with all his might, grabbing matt and lance. the door gives way right as the car rams them the last time, and they fall out when the car flips. he’s got matt and lance trapped under his body as they skid across the road on the shield, and they stand up, disorientated.

the black car parks delicately, and the red soldier hops off the car, is handed a giant grenade-launcher and shoots without hesitating at shiro. shiro whips out his shield just in time, but goes flying from the force of the shot.

‘heya, red,’ lance says under his breath as he pulls out his emergency gun and ducks behind a car. he jumps off the road and tumbles into the next lane as the red soldier aims another explosion at him.

‘i’ve got this,’ matt screams at lance, and lance looks briefly at matt, the bodies surrounding him and nods. jumps off the bridge onto a lower level and runs, before stopping in his tracks as he spots the shadows of the assailants.

 

the mission is in the bus.

the shield is gone. the asset takes aim. the asset jerks back in surprise. he has been shot by the man with blue eyes.

he disappears behind the upper ledge and feels the bullet lodged in his goggles. he stares at the chaos the winged man has left behind: his men, his backup are all dead on the ground, guns missing. the winged man disappeared long before the asset turned around because the asset made the mistake of thinking that his men could handle themselves.

he crushes his goggles in his hand. he pulls out his machine-gun and starts firing at wherever he last was with a ferocity that hadn’t possessed him before, and the asset is met with gunfire from the man with blue eyes.

he runs off.

the asset jumps off the bridge. his bones rattle as he lands on the roof of a car.

he follows the man in blue.

 

‘cap,’ lance whispers down his comms, ‘where the _fuck_ are you, you better not have been shot.’

‘funny story,’ shiro says, his line crackling. ‘i got thrown into a bus. i’m getting civilians out the way.’

‘i’m getting wings out and waiting for the right moment,’ matt says.

‘shiro, you’re up next though,’ lance says, crouching behind a car. ‘i’ve got a very idiotic plan and i’m insane enough to follow through with it.’

lance watches as the red soldier prowls down the road, eyes fixated on the small noise coming from the car where lance has placed his comms. lance strains to listen in, the deathly quiet of the scene letting him faintly pick up what shiro and matt have said.

red disappears from view as he takes a sniper position to shoot, but he reappears again, shifting his gun onto his right shoulder.

lance takes a guess and assumes that red is blowing up something, and when it explodes, lance throws himself at red.

the red soldier has twisted to meet him, anticipating his sudden attack- how, lance has no idea- but lance manages to kick the gun out of his hands and use his momentum to swing onto the back of his neck and secure his position. the garotte he keeps as part of a bracelet comes in handy as he attempts to fasten it around red’s neck, but red has his metal arm pushing against it.

lance gasps as he’s thrown back-first into a car, grabbed by the nape of his neck and thrown again into another car, and he barely has time to grab his electric shocker and fling it at red- who’s already aiming to kill.

the electric shocker disrupts the metal arm, and lance takes the opportunity to run whilst red is down. he can hear the clink of red ripping it off, and the threatening whirr of the arm fixing itself, but he’s so far away at this point, managed to get over fifty feet and twenty cars away so he must have escaped-

and then a bullet rips through his shoulder and he is _down_.

 

collateral damage, red thinks to himself. now. his mission.

 

shiro’s been running towards them ever since he saw the red soldier throw lance into a car, and he manages to make a running start onto the same car that red has jumped up onto with ease. he catches red’s eye- _violet eyes, almost dark blue, so much like keith’s-_ and the soldier shifts. the big gun is dropped immediately and he pulls out a small pistol as his left arm punches the battered shield with enough force for shiro to feel it rattle.

the shield is pulled to the side and shiro is kicked in the stomach, pushing him back, but he manages to hide his whole body behind his shield as the red soldier leans back languidly on the car and shoots. he saves his bullets though, clearly not attempting to shoot through the shield.

they fight evenly matched- shiro manages to disarm him fairly quickly, but the red soldier seemed to be counting on that, using the brief second that shiro is open to grab the shield and flip shiro’s whole body around it whilst also grabbing it himself. he gets another punch to his chest that sends him flying into a car, and shiro looks up with reluctant admiration as the red soldier stares him down, left aim raised in a defensive position clutching his shield.

‘okay,’ shiro says. ‘okay. you’re good.’

the soldier cocks his head as if to say, _i know._

the shield gets thrown and lodges itself in a car and shiro nearly whimpers because that’s _his shield, okay,_ but it doesn’t matter because he sees the red soldier pull out a tiny dagger.

and they fight.

each move feels pre-planned, because the two weave and duck and stab and punch at each other with grace. shiro grunts as he manages to deck red in the face, sending him reeling, and kick him into a car. he gets enough momentum to fly and give the soldier a knee-kick, but the assassin springs back into action with no time to waste, grabbing shiro by the throat.

the soldier looks confused though, and instead of choking him to death with the ease that he could have, he throws shiro into a car, drawing out his knife and using two hands to bring it down onto shiro’s face.

shiro grabs the soldier by the wrist and the two slide across the car, knife screeching as it cuts a line into the truck. shiro manages to get his shield back and get the upper hand, punching the joint of his metal arm with his shield (there’s a sickening crunch of broken wires), before ducking under and hitting his face with it, grabbing him by the mask and throwing him over his body.

there’s grim satisfaction as the figure goes flying, landing on the floor smoothly and ducking into a forward roll.

but the mask comes off and keith kogane turns to look at shiro with a blank look and shiro just stands there.

‘keith,’ shiro says.

‘who the hell is keith,’ says keith.

 

matt takes that opportunity to fly in and drop-kick the red soldier ( _KEITHKEITHKEITHKEITH_ takashi thinks _)._ he recovers, because of course he recovers, but shiro just stands there as keith cocks the gun and aims at shiro.

‘keith,’ shiro says. ‘oh god, keith, what have they done to you?’

‘i don’t understand,’ keith says.

‘drop the weapon,’ matt suggests. keith doesn't.  

lance appears at shiro’s side.

‘blue,’ keith chokes the word out.

‘is that me,’ lance asks. ‘red, i’m a little offended you didn’t remember me.’

a car pulls up. they all turn to look at it, and shay steps out of it.

‘get in,’ she hisses. ‘GALRA’s coming.’

‘GALRA,’ keith repeats.

shay stares at him.

‘who the fuck is this.’

‘keith,’ says shiro at the same time matt says, ‘the red soldier’, and shay huffs.

‘are you getting in or not?’ she asks keith.

‘i don’t understand,’ keith says. ‘my mission- but.’

‘but?’

‘i know you,’ keith says hopelessly, turning to shiro.

‘wow,’ lance says. ‘offended.’

‘get in.’ shay says to the other three.

‘not until keith gets in,’ shiro says. keith shakes his head. ‘you’re my mission,’ he says, and cars containing GALRA agents pull up. ‘i cannot fail.’

and keith kogane shoots.

 

the top-secret hospital is a strange place.

for one thing, there’s only eight people there, and three of them are barely able to speak. iverson’s still in critical condition, and matt pales as coran lists the injuries. katie and hunk are napping in the corner, exhausted from the stress of not knowing what was happening and of keeping iverson alive.

lance is in recovery- he’s in a less intense condition, instead waiting for his ribs to heal as he changes his bandage dressings every-so-often.

‘your boy has shit aim,’ says matt and lance snorts as they stare at shiro.

‘yeah,’ lance replies a little tiredly. ‘yeah, my aim’s better.’

‘you got his eye.’ matt says proudly.

 

shiro had been shot in the shoulder, almost the exact same place lance had been shot (only shiro healed within hours). shay had fired at keith, and keith had taken the shot to the stomach with little care in the world, instead staring at shiro in horror.

matt had pushed shiro into the car and lance kept his gun trained on keith as he got into shay’s car- shay had hopped in and stepped on the pedal.

they had anticipated a car chase, and shay kept nervously checking the windows of the car when no response came. only the sound of gunshots.

‘keith,’ shiro had said. ‘where’s keith?’

‘we left him.’ matt said bluntly.

‘why the fuck-’

‘-because he shot you, and GALRA had turned up. he didn’t want to seem to get in the car, seeing as how he was staring at you like- like you had. i don’t know. maybe it’s dumb that i want you to stay alive-’

and matt had broken off in a bitter huff and lance just stopped listening as they muttered to each other in low tones. it wasn’t his place to overhear, so he rolled his eyes when he met shay’s worried gaze and she had cracked a smile for what seems to have been the first time in a while.

 

and by the time they’re able to help overthrow GALRA, it’s already pretty dead.

lance had told iverson all he knew about GALRA, told them about haggar and zarkon and how once they would fall, GALRA would be stuck in a power vacuum, only to find out that haggar had fallen pretty spectacularly, with her body that lance later identified with equal parts glee and horror riddled with bullets and stab wounds.

‘where’d they find her,’ lance asks the mortician.

‘off some highway,’ they reply.

‘huh.’

 

‘fucking hell,’ pidge says when she opens her front door to see a tired looking keith kogane on her doorstep.

‘hey,’ he says. his voice is stuck between a russian accent and a texan one, and pidge wants to cry and laugh.

‘hello,’ she says because pidge holt is polite. ‘please don’t kill me.’

‘i don’t want to do that,’ he says.

‘that’s good.’

‘i- i never wanted to do that.’

‘we know.’

‘i haven’t killed zarkon. but i have him.’

‘that’s. nice?’

‘i think i want to kill him though.’

‘keith, this is nice, but i’m not a therapist.’

‘i just wanted to let you know. so you don’t have to keep going after zarkon.’

‘i’m not VOLTRON-’

‘no, but i don’t think i could talk to them.’

pidge nods.

‘you know. shiro’s desperate to see you.’ she says carefully, and keith smiles bitterly.

‘he’s waiting for keith kogane,’ keith says. ‘i don’t know where that guy is. gotta find myself first, i guess, and get myself in a good place.’

‘that makes sense.’ pidge says. ‘we’re here to help, you know.’

‘yeah.’ keith says. ‘yeah, i know.’

 

shiro gets a text from an unknown number giving him the location of zarkon’s safe-house, and they take him down and put him in custody.

 _thanks_ , shiro texts back. _let me know whenever you’re ready to talk_

_sure thing takashi_

 

life goes on.

shiro gets his coffee with matt, and they have a perfectly ordinary first date- there’s shy glances, muttered compliments and a kiss on matt’s doorstep. matt gets inside, texts shiro _‘next time can we go blow up things together?? today was nice but weird’_ and gets twenty excited emojis in reply.

pidge manages to get onto mark VI of her suit. it uses nanotechnology, and hunk films their first trial of it and posts it onto twitter. the sight of a metal suit wrapping itself around pidge before she sets off into flight becomes the most retweeted tweet so far, and hunk smugly pins it to the top of his timeline.

and lance.

well.

 

lance gets back to his house at around two am and is honestly too tired to scream when he sees the glint of metal.

‘hey, red,’ lance says and he pauses with a worried glance. ‘or would you rather keith?’

‘i like it when you call me red.’ keith says quietly.

‘okay,’ lance says.

he drops his bags at the door, not bothering to bring them inside, and heads towards his tiny kitchen. he doesn’t need to ask, making two cups of green tea and brings them both into the living room. keith goes to drink from a cup when lance slaps his hands away.

‘put away the puppy eyes, you heathen, you’ve got to let the tea steep.’

keith snorts and sits back on the couch. he has his eyes closed and lance stares at the curve of his nose, his cupid’s bow, the slight blush of his cheeks, his wild hair.

‘you still dance?’ keith asks and lance rolls his eyes.

‘we both know it wasn’t dancing. but yeah, i do actually- i bust out my moves on the dance floor all the time. in fact-’ and lance wiggles his eyebrows suggestively- ‘you should join me.’

keith giggles in response, and lance melts.

and keith unofficially moves in three days later.

 

‘how much do you remember?’ lance asks one day.

‘it comes and goes,’ keith replies.

they’re sitting on the couch, keith’s feet tucked underneath lance’s legs as they pick at the remnants of their chinese takeaway, some disney film playing in the background.

‘i don’t remember a lot of my missions,’ keith says thoughtfully. ‘but i- when i was on my own, after the motorway...incident, i did a lot of digging. flushed out some GALRA bases and found my files. i’m making my way through them, and i get reminded a lot.’

‘do you remember-’ lance begins. he trails off mid-sentence, a little too embarrassed to ask keith if he remembers their three weeks of flirting and fighting when he’s in the midst of a quiet, emotional moment, but keith smiles a small smile to himself.

‘yeah,’ he says. ‘yeah, i remember you. somehow.’

‘that’s good,’ lance replies and he manages to gather some bravado. ‘it would be awkward if i tried to thank you for helping me if you didn’t remember it.’

keith shrugs. ‘they wiped me, and i still couldn’t forget you.’

‘you know,’ lance says, ‘that’s weirdly romantic.’

‘so it is,’ keith says and they leave it at that.

 

hunk is very proud of himself for not screaming when he knocks on lance’s door and keith kogane opens it.

‘howdy,’ keith says, texan accent strong. his expression is blank, so hunk genuinely can’t tell if keith is fucking with him.

‘talofa,’ hunk replies with a raised eyebrow.

‘lance isn’t here yet,’ keith says, ‘he told me he’d be home in about three hours. wanna come in?’

‘sure,’ hunk says. they’re awkward for the first fifteen minutes, hunk watching keith absent-mindedly flip his knife before keith turns his head and stares at hunk.

‘you,’ he says. ‘you’re-are you hulk?’

‘ah, no. i’m hunk.’

‘GALRA spelt your name wrong in their files,’ keith says with a small frown.

‘they’re lucky they’re dead,’ hunk replies and keith barks out a laugh.

 

‘i just worry that the media is going to try to paint me in a bad light the next time i turn into that- you know- green guy. because i’m indigenous and they’re gonna go to town on the whole, ‘polynesian guy goes wild and native and attacks mindlessly, he’s returning to his roots’ angle. and i feel like, like i had a responsibility as a moderately famous indigenous scientist to all the kids out there who aren’t in a privileged position, you know, and that this is only gonna do more harm than good.’ hunk says, three hours in.

‘i think those kids would be happy to see a hero,’ keith offers. hunk lights up.

‘thanks dude,’ he says, and keith shrugs.

‘we need more heroes,’ keith says, ‘and you’re a great guy.’

‘you too,’ hunk says. it’s a little stilted, and keith shakes his head.

‘i’d be honoured to become half the man you are.’

hunk beams at the praise and they sit in comfortable silence for a while.

‘speaking of great guys,’ hunk says suddenly, and he leans forward. ‘lance is single.’

‘wow, i hadn’t noticed,’ keith replies dryly and hunk grins a little manically. he wiggles his eyebrows and keith stares back blankly before looking at the door and back at hunk.

‘i think we have this unspoken agreement,’ keith says hesitantly, ‘that whenever we’re both ready, we’ll go for it. but we’re not ready yet.’

‘good,’ hunk says vehemently, ‘don’t rush into anything-’

‘honey, i’m home-’ lance calls as he opens the door and he stops in his tracks. he takes in the sight of keith, his face bright red and a smug hunk- and he also realises in horror that he hadn’t told _anyone_ that he was living with keith kogane- and he slips off his shoes out of routine than anything.

‘what sort of time do you call this,’ keith replies out of instinct. hunk shoots keith a knowing glance.

‘not ready, my ass,’ hunk says. keith gets even redder, and lance feels horrifically out of the loop.

 

shiro feels a little sad that keith hasn’t come to him yet.

he knows that he’s living with lance after lance had ran up to him whilst he was training and practically thrown himself on the floor, explaining the whole situation to him whilst steadfastly avoiding shiro’s eyes. shiro hadn’t known how to respond to that, so he just nods, claps lance on the shoulder and says something that must have been vaguely inspirational and appropriate because lance looks instantly relieved.

he knows that he’s somehow become good friends with hunk. shiro isn’t too surprised- apparently, hunk had taken an upset, broken lance under his wing almost instantaneously and the same caring instinct applied to keith.

he knows that keith had found matt one day and attempted to become friends. according to matt, it was horrifically awkward but weirdly enjoyable and they have plans to do whatever the hell they did again next wednesday.

he knows the facts behind keith’s capture as well- knows that GALRA were prepared for him so the metal arm they had prepared was a little too big for keith’s smaller frame, knows the drugs they pumped into him were probably a little excessive. and he thinks the guilt that he feels will never go because _he should have been the red soldier._

he knows that keith probably isn’t ready to face him. but he’s still a little sad about it.

 

‘this can’t be a thing,’ pidge says when she opens her door to find lance and a sulking keith on her doorstep.

‘this _idiot_ refuses to get his arm looked at,’ lance seethes. he knows, rather than sees, that keith has rolled his eyes so he spins on his heel and points at keith angrily.

‘i see you clutching your arm,’ he says, ‘i see you wincing whenever you move it. i can hear it whir! it sounds like an overheated laptop, and that _cannot_ be healthy.’  

‘this fat-head thinks that this is important,’ keith says to pidge darkly.

‘fat-head? my head is a good size!’ lance shrieks, and then ‘it is important! your health is important!’

‘lance,’ pidge says, ‘lance, it is three am.’

 

at nine am, shiro walks into pidge’s lab to talk about modifications to the paladin suit when he sees keith sitting on the countertop in her workstation, left arm missing but looking well-rested, well-fed. the circles under his eyes that had been so prominent to shiro on the motorway had mostly faded away. his hair was no longer greasy.

‘おっす,’ keith says with a small grin. ‘私のことが恋しかったですか？’

‘そんなに,’ shiro replies breathlessly.

‘don’t hug me,’ keith says quickly. ‘i can’t hug with one arm.’

shiro does it anyway.

* * *

 

**7.**

 

‘agent holt,’ coran says down the phone, ‘this is a level seven.’

‘this was meant to be _my day off,_ ’ matt says in despair.

‘yes,’ coran says briskly, ‘well. aliens are real and they’ve stolen the tesseract. so hurry up.’

matt hangs up.

 

stuttgart is a lovely place, shiro thinks, and it would be nicer if there weren’t a colonising alien hell-bent on enslaving the entirety of planet earth.

‘this is a nice place,’ keith says. ‘shame we’re here because of the dictator.’

‘that’s just what i was thinking,’ shiro says.

they’re in a small jet. keith’s on strict orders to stay in the jet, being the best pilot- _where the fuck did you learn how to fly,_ shiro had asked keith and keith had gone quiet because he hadn’t quite remembered before he retorted _well, we wouldn’t want you to fly it, ya boob, you crashed the last plane you flew_. hunk is back at VOLTRON hq, his mission being to track the gamma radiation emitting from the tesseract.

he had passed on fighting the alien, and shiro was envious.

‘where’s pidge?’ shiro asks and lance fiddles with his electric gauntlet.

‘she’s behind us,’ he says, ‘i think she was installing some new software, system update kind of thing so she’s a little delayed.’

‘cool,’ shiro says.

‘drop point,’ keith says into the comms. ‘you gonna wear a parachute this time, or not?’

‘probably not,’ shiro says.

keith opens his mouth to wittily respond, but he clenches his jaw once he sees what’s happening down below.

‘takashi, drop now,’ keith says, ‘there’s a guy standing up against the alien.’

shiro jumps off the plane almost immediately, and he lands right in front of a defiant old man, shield raised to ricochet the pure blast of energy aimed at the civilian back at the alien. he thinks _fuck, that was lucky_ but he rises dramatically anyway.

‘you know,’ he says, striding forward towards the startled, crouched figure, ‘the last time i was in germany, and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.’

he thinks it’s quite a good statement, before the alien stands up and shiro blurts ‘holy shit, you’re purple.’

the alien looks a little taken aback at the statement. shiro can hear muffled laughter in his comms and he knows he’s never going to live this down.

‘i’ve heard about you, man out of time,’ says the alien. he raises an eyebrow. ‘i was not aware you were so observant.’

‘yeah,’ shiro says awkwardly, scrambling for a comeback, ‘well. i didn’t know you were _british_.’

and there’s an awful beat of awkward silence before he hears keith cackling. the jet appears behind him, taking off the invisibility cloaking, and lance’s voice rings out loud and clear.

‘drop the weapon, lotor,’ he says as a gun appears, ‘stand down.’

lotor responds with a blast of energy and the plane dodges it quickly. shiro takes advantage of lotor’s open position to throw his shield towards lotor’s face, and the civilians take the opportunity to scatter. shiro runs in and gets in a punch to lotor’s gut, and another one in the chest but has to go on the defensive quickly because lotor has a staff that he wields with ease.

at some point, shiro gets kicked in the chest and he’s really getting tired of being kicked in the chest. he gets up and delivers a textbook roundhouse kick and he grins as lotor is taken aback with the force of it.

‘hey paladin,’ says pidge as she flies down.

‘you’re late,’ shiro replies faux-angrily, and the iron suit shrugs.

‘yeah,’ she says. ‘well. watch this.’

she sends a giant shockwave towards the already down lotor, who doesn’t even bother getting up. he just stays lying down.

‘i suppose you want to arrest me.’ he says.

‘ _goddamnit,’_ shiro says suddenly, ‘i should have said ‘i’m not the one who’s out of time’, not-’

‘i didn’t know you were british,’ keith wheezes into the comms and shiro sighs.

‘guys,’ pidge says. ‘is it over?’

 

the flight back to VOLTRON’s helicarrier is interrupted by an extremely loud thunderstorm.

keith keeps piloting steadily, although he does flick the ‘turbulence’ warning sign on and off to annoy everyone else. lance stares at lotor suspiciously, and shiro has his shield up, ready in case lotor tries to fight back. pidge just keeps blasting things on the plane, calibrating her new software.

‘you look scared,’ lance says to lotor. ‘is it the lightning?’

‘no.’ lotor says and he does look like he’s about to wet himself. ‘i just know what’s coming next.’

‘what is?’ lance asks, and there’s a thud on the roof.

‘there is a _person_ on my roof,’ keith says, raising his voice. ‘why is there a person on my roof.’

‘red, you say that as if you’ve never landed on my roof,’ lance says. ‘five months ago, motorwa- wait, why is someone on the roof though?’

‘ooh,’ pidge says and the mask reappears over her face. shiro holds the shield a little tighter to him, and he tries to make their way towards lotor but the storm causes him to sway side to side. pidge goes to stand by the door, arms raised in an offensive position, her ion blast charging up.

‘careful,’ shiro says, but the door is ripped open.

the split second before pidge can blast the assailant, she is thrown aside into the corner of the plane. lance immediately goes to her and shiro stares as the assailant comes into the light. she’s tall and beautiful and radiant, and she looks particularly murderous.

‘hello,’ she says. ‘just ignore me.’

she grabs the chained lotor by the throat and jumps out of the plane.

keith turns back in unabashed glee.

‘hey, shiro,’ he says. ‘i know this is the wrong time but aliens are so fucking real and i told you so.’

‘oh my god,’ lance says softly.

‘i’ll go get him back,’ pidge says and she blasts off.

‘oh my god,’ lance repeats.

‘well, i gotta make sure pidge doesn’t kill herself fighting two gods,’ shiro says and he jumps out the plane.

 

coran looks at the plane when keith lands, with the ripped off door, the lack of shiro, pidge and lotor, and goes to take an advil.

 

two hours later, they get prior notice from pidge that they’re on their way, and the trio appear with lotor, who is somehow more chained than before.

‘coran,’ shiro says tiredly, as they land on the helicarrier’s deck- the woman has shiro in one hand and lotor in the other, and pidge lands right next to them, visibly giddy with excitement.

‘she is _so cool,_ ’ pidge says.

‘i have found the tesseract,’ the woman announces.

‘this is too easy,’ matt mutters.

‘lotor has employed a way to use the tesseract to open a wormhole,’ the woman continues, ‘and i believe that the wormhole will allow thousands of chitauri warriors to ravage your world, regardless of whether lotor is present or not.’

‘we gotta get people off the city,’ shiro continues. ‘that’s enough time to evacuate the majority of civilians.’

coran nods. ‘we’ll issue a warning now.’

‘aliens,’ keith murmurs to lance, ‘so fucking real.’

 

they lock lotor in a cell intended for hunk’s alter-ego, and hunk quickly volunteers to monitor him.

‘i don’t want to fight,’ he says. ‘and i mean, i might as well just look after him. i’ll give him a magazine or something.’

‘okay,’ shiro says. ‘if you’re sure.’

‘i’m probably more useful in here, anyway,’ hunk adds and shiro nods.

‘also,’ lance says and he turns to the woman. ‘who are you?’

‘i am allura,’ says allura, ‘daughter of alfor, princess of altea, the goddess of thunder, commander of lightning and storm, leader of the valkyries, and i wish to apologise for my brother’s actions. he had disappeared from altea’s sight a few months ago, and we have only just tracked him down to midgard- if we had known that he would attempt to enslave your planet, we would have- would have. well. i’m not sure what we would have done, as we have found him the quickest we possibly can.’

there’s a beat of silence.

‘it’s the thought that counts,’ matt suggests and allura nods.

‘that’s really nice of you,’ pidge says. ‘i like your hammer-thing.’

allura beams.

‘it is my bayard,’ allura says, ‘stormbreaker. it is, in fact, a replacement for my previous hammer, mjölnir, and i am struggling a little to use it.’

‘could’ve fooled me.’

‘why, thank you,’ allura says.

‘is it too heavy for you?’ keith says from the corner of the room, and lance smacks him on his metal arm.

‘red,’ lance hisses, ‘allura is perfectly capable of handling her own hammer-’

‘no,’ keith says, ‘no, jesus, i didn’t mean it like that, i just saw the way she spun it, it looked like she was used to less resistance-’

‘keith is right,’ allura says.

‘see,’ keith says to lance, ‘i look the same when i have a knife that’s not balanced right. except my knife is a knife, and her knife is a giant hammer.’

‘the dwarf-king used the power of a dying sun to melt the metal of stormbreaker, mined from the depths of the planet balmera where the power of quintessence flows freely.’

‘exactly.’

‘do not worry,’ allura says. ‘mjölnir was much more interesting. she could be picked up only by those worthy.’

‘worthy of what?’ pidge asks.

‘of wielding her.’ allura says simply.

‘right,’ lance says. ‘this is a lot of information.’

‘of course,’ allura says and lance thinks that that the conversation must be winding to an end, but allura continues with, ‘mjölnir was shattered by the galran forces that invaded altea, led by my cousin. my father gave his life to save mine, and i was led to destroy altea by summoning the end of my planet, as the nature of larminia’s powers bound her to altea, and altea alone.’

‘so much information,’ lance says.

‘i’m sorry, but you have galra?’ shiro asks dumbfoundedly.

‘yes,’ says allura. ‘do you?’

‘we’re ex-galran,’ keith says, gesturing to himself and lance, and allura raises an eyebrow.

‘lotor is half-galran,’ allura says. ‘he was claimed by the galran forces that took our planet.’

‘well,’ keith says flatly., ‘we were named galra after the myths.’

‘i can confirm that,’ lance adds, ‘that was like, lesson three of the ‘get brainwashed by GALRA’ programme.’

‘i am glad to hear you are no longer galran,’ allura says. keith makes a non-committal hand sign.

‘and i’m sorry to hear about your planet,’ coran says. ‘with that kind of struggle, it is no wonder that lotor escaped your notice.’

‘it has been a very weird few months,’ allura says.

‘kind of makes our issues seem a little insignificant,’ pidge says.

‘problems are problems, regardless of their scale,’ allura says kindly.

‘thank you, princess,’ coran says.

 

the next day, pidge wakes up at six am swearing.

she pulls the emergency alarm and makes her way to the main room clutching a cup of coffee and messy hair.

‘there appears to be a wormhole beginning to materialise above holt tower,’ she says to the group. she isn’t surprised to see coran, shiro and allura, well-rested and and perky, and a disgruntled matt, but she is a little surprised to see lance and keith so awake.

‘it will take at least nine vargas,’ allura says. ‘as their planet is several light-years away and the wormhole must be large. that’s more than enough time to prepare- although with the tesseract’s power, maybe six.’

‘lotor will use this opportunity to escape,’ allura adds, and hunk shrugs.

‘i’ll just stay on evil-dictator watch,’ he says.

 

at eleven am, the wormhole opens.

‘that was not six hours,’ lance calls as keith lands the plane down, and allura shrugs.

‘it was six vargas,’ allura responds and lance huffs.

they jog out of the quinjet into the deserted city and stare in horror as armoured creatures jump out of the ships travelling through the wormhole. they break the windows of the offices that they smash into, and scuttle around.

‘pidge, you seeing this?’ shiro asks.

‘i don’t know how i’d miss it,’ she replies, ‘but i’m on it.’

they see a blast of light disappear into the offices and the familiar sound of pidge’s ion blasters. allura’s eyes flicker and she seems to radiate lightning as she swings her hammer and bursts into the sky, flying straight up into the wormhole to swing her hammer at incoming ships. lance whistles as lightning crackles around her, occasionally striking out and hitting chitauri warriors. she follows a particularly large ship, crashing into it, and they watch as the ship goes down.

‘can we just let her do it,’ lance asks half-heartedly.

‘aw, blue,’ keith says as he jogs out the quinjet, and shiro and lance turn around to see keith, black warpaint smothered along his eyes, armed with two machine guns, an array of knives and grenades attached to his hips, a sword strapped to his back, ‘that’s not fun.’

‘when did you put your eyeliner on,’ shiro asks blankly.

‘it’s warpaint,’ keith says defensively, ‘and that’s not important.’

‘that’s eyeliner,’ matt says and keith glares at him.

‘there’s a bunch of guys headed your way, cap,’ says pidge and they all look to see a swarm of chitauri monsters.

‘lance,’ shiro says, ‘lance, if we get you up high, you think you could hold them off?’

‘it would be my genuine pleasure,’ lance says.

‘got it,’ matt says and his wings extend, and as he runs forward, he grabs lance by the neck and drops him off on the top of a building somewhere. lance settles quickly into position, grabbing his sniper rifle out of nowhere and he begins to pick off chitauri whilst matt swoops around, guns firing.

shiro nods at keith and promptly jumps off the bridge they’re on, landing onto a bus with a forward roll. there’s a ship that spots him, and it chases him down, sending the bus and the subsequent cars shiro manages to jump on flying. shiro jumps into a forward roll and lands on the ground, still running.

keith spins on his feet and taps his gauntlets, unsheathing the two daggers kept in there. he goes in quick, sliding on his knees towards the advancing chitauri and slicing the backs of their legs. they go down and their heads follow soon after, and keith slides the daggers back into their place, reaching instead for his sword.

‘hey guys,’ comes hunk’s voice over the comms, ‘we have an issue.’

‘what’s the issue?’ shiro asks.

‘i’ve figured out that you need to use his staff to close the portal,’ hunk says. ‘it’s got the tesseract inside it, and that thing seems to have compatible energy so-’

‘great! that doesn’t sound like an issue.’ interrupts shiro. ‘where’s the staff?’

‘well,’ hunk says, ‘that’s the thing. lotor managed to escape about ten minutes ago? he got coran pretty badly, and then ran off.’

‘i will find him,’ allura says.

‘no,’ shiro says, ‘you’re too useful fighting.’

‘i’m not,’ offers lance, ‘i’m literally just sniping up here.’

‘you’re useful,’ keith says.

‘thanks.’

‘also, guys,’ hunk says, ‘i’m on my way. big guy wants to fight.’

 

hunk manages to land down onto a giant space whale.

pidge can just about spot him, a giant green figure attempting to rip out the spine of the giant creature and she grins as she watches him swing down, grab the creature by the armour of its jaw and turn it around.

‘hunk! welcome to the party,’ she says as she sends an ion blast into its eye. it groans in pain and pidge would be upset if it weren’t so big and ugly and murderous.

‘this is the worst party i’ve ever been to,’ lance says darkly through the comms.

hunk- and pidge thinks, they’ve really got to come up with a code name for the big guy- fixes pidge with a baleful look and pidge nods, flies off.

she spots shiro taking on about twenty aliens and spins through them to narrow out the crowd, before landing on her feet as shiro spins through the air. he throws up his shield and pidge blasts it with her ion charge, and the two spin in tandem as it ricochets and downs the rest of the chitauri. she flies off again, spotting more aircraft.

 

‘director iverson,’ says the councilwoman. ‘glad to see you’re alive.’

‘i’m not,’ iverson says, ‘what the hell are you doing? are you sending a bogey?’

‘the council has made a decision-’

‘no,’ iverson interrupts, ‘no, i recognise that you have made a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision, i’ve elected to ignore it.’

 

‘matt,’ lance says into his comms, ‘can you come get me and put me wherever keith is?’

‘not the right time, dude,’ matt says as he shoots at chitauri on the ground.

‘no,’ lance says, ‘no, there’s no aliens coming my way, and i’ve ran out of ammo- keith is kind of a walking armoury, if you haven’t noticed.’

‘gimme a minute,’ matt says.

‘actually,’ lance says as he watches what he can only describe as a space-bike fly past him, ‘scratch that, i’ve got another stupid plan.’

he jumps off the building and lands onto an alien’s head, and he uses his gauntlets to shock it in the neck, gripping onto the handlebars.

‘go left,’ lance repeats to himself as the bike goes right, ‘no, go _left-_ ’

‘having fun?’ keith asks wryly and lance narrows his eyes.

‘am i near you?’ lance asks.

‘yeah.’

‘catch me,’ lance says, and he jumps off the bike.

he falls for a second, and is tackled mid-air by keith- who jumps off a car to intercept lance. they land and skid across the floor, and lance exhales.

‘did we land on your metal arm,’ he says and keith hums an affirmative response into lance’s shoulder. lance has his face turned into keith’s hair, and keith shudders out a groan of pain.

‘idiot,’ lance says softly, ‘when we finish this, you gotta get it checked out.’

‘i’m fine,’ keith replies, ‘just- just give me a second.’

lance frowns. ‘can you feel it?’

‘maybe,’ keith says. ‘it’s fine. i’m fine. i’m good.’

‘can you two stop hugging on the ground,’ matt says dryly. the aliens ready to converge on the two are gunned down promptly, and keith groans.

‘we’re not hugging,’ he replies.

‘you’re right, you’re just cradling lance in your arms.’ matt says.

‘we’re bonding,’ lance retorts. ‘but also, get off me, there’s aliens coming our way.’

 

allura narrows her eyes mid-hammer swing as she watches lotor emerge onto the platform of a tower with a H plastered on it. she alerts the team, before she lands on the building with a thud, not bothering to hide her presence to lotor.

matt swoops down and grabs lance, who catches the rifle that keith throws to him, and matt drops him off on a building facing holt tower.

‘i’ve got you,’ he says. lance nods, settles into a sniping position, closes his eyes and opens them, focused only on lotor.

 

‘lotor,’ allura calls, and lotor turns to look at her. he’s in altean warrior dress, allura notices, and she resists the urge to soften at the sight.

‘yes, sister dearest,’ lotor says bitterly.

‘turn off the tesseract,’ she says, ‘and end this farcical fight.’

‘why?’ lotor asks calmly. ‘no-one’s here. you evacuated the civilians last night, dear allura, and all that’s being destroyed is a few buildings.’

‘you _know_ what i mean. you cannot- you should not even be attempting this takeover-’

‘building an empire is _all_ that galra were good at,’ lotor spits, turning to face allura. he jumps off of his ledge and onto allura’s, and he prowls towards her.

‘you’re not galra,’ allura says.

‘oh,’ lotor says. ‘but i am. you were there when alfor denounced me, revealed my birthright to the entire aristocracy. you were there when i was rejected by the white lion, forbidden to enter oriande and learn the secrets of the altean race.’

‘that was _not_ because you are galra,’ allura says, ‘lotor, it was because you- you tried to attack the white lion. you are not ready-’

‘it is difficult to accept that from the person who was successful,’ lotor sneers.

‘stop this,’ allura repeats, ‘stop this. midgard has done nothing wrong.’

‘it does not matter that midgard did nothing wrong,’ lotor says. ‘i am claiming my birthright.’

‘his argument makes no sense,’ mutters pidge down the comms and into allura’s ear, and allura cannot help but snort. lotor’s face twists in fury.

‘you mock me,’ he says.

he steps towards allura, his staff aimed at her heart and she reacts accordingly, ducking the energy blast and springing back up with a punch to his face. lotor takes the hit and swings his staff towards her, but allura deflects with her hammer. she crackles with electricity again, and it strikes lotor. he reels at the hit.

‘you grow more powerful,’ he says bitterly. ‘i was meant to do that too.’

‘you still can,’ allura says side-stepping lotor’s kick, ‘close the portal. give up.’

‘funny,’ lotor says. ‘i don’t really want to.’

there’s a screeching sound, and lotor and allura snap their heads to see pidge disappear into the stomach of another space whale.

‘these are the warriors you align yourself with,’ lotor says smugly. ‘they are idiots.’

he freezes as there is a blast of light, the murderous space whale whining as pidge cuts open its stomach and re-emerges.

‘they are fierce,’ allura says. ‘the finest warriors of their world. you cannot expect to beat them.’

‘i have an army,’ lotor says.

‘mindless creatures, against me, a legendary super-soldier, two master assassins-’

‘-and your own mindless creature.’ lotor finishes with a smirk, gesturing towards hunk smashing into the buildings.

‘hey,’ shouts pidge as she lands on the roof. allura tries to not shudder at the smell of her, the smell of the chitauri’s stomach juice clinging to her suit. ‘don’t talk about my friend like that.’

‘iron girl,’ lotor says, his voice dripping with venom.

‘nah, it’s ironheart,’ pidge replies. allura watches in horror as she walks towards them, a giant mechanism spinning around her, dismantling her suit.

‘sorry, hope you don’t mind,’ she says. ‘it really stinks.’

‘not at all,’ allura says.

‘what do you want,’ lotor says. ‘we’re having a private conversation.’

‘that’s nice,’ pidge says. ‘i don’t particularly care. i just wanted to let you know that hunk is on his way here, so i really just got here to collect the staff.’  

‘you’re not getting my staff,’ lotor says and pidge shrugs. she’s fully de-suited, but another one closes around her when she taps her bracelet. lotor braces himself for a fight with the iron suit, keeping an eye on allura behind him, but he doesn’t expect the bullets that rip through his abdomen.

‘target hit,’ lance says.

‘that was a beautiful shot,’ keith says in awe. then. ‘date me.’

‘what-’

‘does asking people out at highly inappropriate times run in the family?’ matt asks lightly. ‘i distinctly remember shiro asking me out when keith was halfway through trying to kill us.’

‘sorry,’ keith says. ‘i’ll ask again later.’

lance makes a choked noise.

‘pidge, will you close the portal?’ allura says awkwardly.

pidge groans, suddenly worried. ‘we’ve got bigger issues.’

‘like what?’ shiro asks. ‘we can’t have _more_ issues, we’re being attacked by aliens, how do we have more-’

‘paladin,’ croaks coran’s voice over the comms. ‘you’ve got incoming.’

‘okay, we have more issues,’ shiro says.

‘the world security council, however, is under the impression that manhattan should just be taken out, captain,’ coran says. ‘and they’re tempted to send the missile out unless you stop this attack within five minutes.’

‘five minutes.’ shiro repeats in disbelief. ‘five minutes. you know what- i hate this century. everything has to happen so quickly. why can people not just live large for a quick second or two?’

‘damn, the world security council pissed off captain america,’ pidge chortles.

‘coran, you okay?’ lance asks.

‘i will be fine,’ coran says, ‘i have been shot in the stomach many times before. it’s practically made of steel.’

lotor stands up, apparently recovered from being shot in the stomach three times.

‘ENOUGH,’ he bellows. ‘you are all BENEATH me- i am a GOD, and i REFUSE to be BULLIED by such BASE CREATURES LIKE-’

hunk lands on the balcony and grabs lotor by the feet, throwing him through the glass window of the penthouse.

‘don’t kill him,’ allura says and hunk nods. he roars and jumps inside, and they hear a lot of smashing. pidge winces at the sound of her floors being broken.

‘puny god,’ hunk says.

‘one less problem,’ keith says.

‘they’ve sent the missile,’ coran says with horror and shiro swears loudly.

‘whoa,’ matt says. ‘pidge is underage.’

allura grabs lotor’s scepter and goes to fly up to the portal, but pidge stops her.

‘how long have we got until the missile reaches?’ pidge asks.

‘three minutes, max,’ cora says grimly.

‘okay,’ pidge says. ‘okay. i’ll just- i’ll just send it up through the portal.’

‘oh my god,’ matt says.

‘look,’ keith says, ‘this is really surprising and stuff, but you know the aliens are still fighting us, right?’

 

pidge blasts off into the skies, in search for the incoming missile.

allura looks at lotor, who can’t seem to move from the ground, and picks up his scepter.

‘would you prefer for you or me to keep an eye on lotor?’ she asks.

‘i’ll do it,’ matt says, ‘you’re a literal god, you’re more helpful fighting.’

allura nods grimly. she picks up the scepter.

‘can you-’ and matt swallows because his throat is dry, ‘can you keep an eye out for katie up in the sky?’

‘of course,’ allura says.

 

she drops down on lance’s ledge, electrocutes all the chitauri swarming on lance’s balcony and hands him the staff.

‘your job,’ she says and she flies off, eyeing shiro who drops to the ground after being shot in the ribs.

‘okay,’ lance says. ‘no pressure.’

 

lance groans as the staff thrums in his hand and he swears it can hear it talk to him.

 _no more,_ lance tells the staff, and it seems to agree.

‘this is like the elder wand,’ lance says a little dumbfoundedly. ‘guys, i can close the portal. anybody copy?’

‘do it,’ shiro says.

‘no,’ pidge says. ‘no, not yet.’

she flies behind the missile and grabs it, using all her strength to push it up.

‘pidge,’ shiro says quietly, ‘that’s a one-way trip.’

‘jeez, dad,’ pidge says and matt snorts.

‘please don’t say that,’ he says, ‘it’s really weird to hear my sister call my boyfriend dad.’

allura crackles with enough electricity to keep the chitauri surrounding her and shiro down, and she spots keith holding his own against a seemingly endless swarm of aliens. she has half a mind to go to help him, but her body refuses to move, instead just staring at pidge as the small iron suit- so visible, in bright green- disappear into the wormhole.

‘guys,’ they all hear over the comms, a delighted giggle, ‘guys, it worked-’

and then it cuts out.

‘close it,’ shiro says.

lance closes his eyes and tells the scepter to work with him, then groans as the staff directs his arm upwards and sends a steady beam of light to the wormhole, only narrowly missing pidge’s falling body. the wormhole flutters shut, and all the chitauri left alive on earth fall.

‘son of a gun,’ shiro mutters as they watch pidge fall.

‘she’s not slowing down,’ keith says in horror, and allura jumps into the air, but is knocked out of the way by hunk, who grabs pidge, slides down the side of a building and crashes to the ground in front of keith. hunk landed on his back, and he gently puts pidge on the ground before he gasps in horror and goes to the corner. keith doesn’t watch as hunk goes from big and green to smaller and normal, instead delicately taking off her face plate with his right hand. hunk jogs over.

‘guys,’ keith says down his comms. ‘guys, her arc reactor isn’t on.’

shiro runs over, doubled over, and matt and allura land on the ground with lance in tow.

‘hey katie,’ matt says. ‘if you don’t wake up, i’ll tell dad about the drunk raccoons.’

pidge gasps and opens her eyes.

‘don’t you dare,’ pidge says, a little out of breath. and then-

‘hunk, put on some clothes.’

‘we won,’ lance says.

‘i want a month off,’ shiro says immediately. ‘i don’t ever, ever, ever want to do that again.’

 

lotor wheezes as he crawls over to the staircase, but he gives up once he sees the team surrounding him.

‘allura,’ he says. ‘the universe can no longer doubt your strength, but allies will make you stronger- i can be one of those allies.’

‘you will be taken back to altea and questioned, first,’ allura says.

‘worth a try,’ lotor says with a defeated smile.

 

‘coran.’ says the councilwoman. ’you do not understand what you have started. letting VOLTRON loose on the world. they’re dangerous.’

‘ma’am, i think you’ll find i do understand what i’ve done.’ coran says. ‘and the whole world knows that they’re dangerous. _every_ world knows it.’

‘was that the point of this? a statement?’

‘the paladins of voltron, defenders of the earth. it’s more a promise, isn’t it?’

 

allura arrives with lotor in a muzzle and handcuffs.

‘kinky,’ lance says, and keith jolts. he leans over to lance, getting on his tiptoes as he whispers something in lance’s ear, and lance immediately blanches.

‘you cannot use _that_ to be romantic right now,’ lance hisses and shiro decides he doesn’t want to know.

shiro watches as pidge takes out a glass cylinder and hunk- holding the tesseract with some tongs- drops it into the container. allura takes it gingerly, and she holds it in the crook of one arm as she shakes hands with shiro.

‘i like it here,’ she says. ‘i’ll come back. altea needs allies.’

she turns to pidge.

‘you have the greatest courage of any warrior i have seen,’ she says. pidge nearly cries. allura looks up at the sky, and then a giant rainbow light glows onto the two of them.

‘gay,’ keith says, utterly deadpan.

allura nods to them all, and she and lotor disappear with the light.

‘hey,’ pidge says to the rest of the team. ‘holt tower got kind of banged up, so i’m redecorating. you guys wanna move in?’

* * *

**8.**

 

 

‘i always drive,’ matt grumbles.

‘shouldn’t you be used to it?’ lance asks as he shoots, standing up in his seat next to matt. the car weaves in between the GALRA cars armed with bad guys, and matt rolls his eyes as he kicks off the soldier hanging onto the side of his car.

‘i _fly_ ,’ matt says.

‘you’re the only one with a license,’ shiro shouts from the back, punching GALRA agents.

‘you get one then,’ matt says.

‘i’m like, ninety-six,’ shiro retorts.

lance shoots at the gun of a tank and grins as the tank blows up. pidge swoops in in front of them, scouting ahead for any dangers and allura uses a tank as a stepping-stone, nimbly jumping up onto the wooden lookout balconies and punching all the soldiers off it. she catches one with a jetpack, and flips him as she jumps off it, landing on her knees. the man in the jetpack scrambles out of the way as keith rides through on a motorbike.

‘keith has a license,’ matt says.

‘well, i am only eighty-eight,’ keith says. ‘also. i don’t.’

‘you’re driving that without a license?’ shiro asks and keith hums in response. he spots a man in the distance and throws his knife, and he waits to see the man fall before closing his hand- the action activates a magnet in the knife’s hilt, and it returns to him at top speed. keith catches it by the blade with his left hand, then nimbly navigates his way through the rocky terrain.

he spots hunk, who’s lifting a tank with his bare hands and shaking the men out of it, before breaking into a light jog alongside keith’s bike, the car and allura mid-flight.

‘oh hey,’ pidge says, matching their level, ‘there’s a boundary. cool pose!’

keith twists his bike and uses the side momentum to jump off it, grabbing his sword mid-jump. lance has his legs up, ready to swing around the neck of an enemy soldier. matt’s jumping high, his mechanical wings stretching out, and shiro is leaping with his shield in front of him. hunk is halfway through roaring, and allura’s crackling with energy as pidge fires her cannon.

‘fuck yeah,’ pidge crows. ‘cool pose!’

they’ve cleared the front yard, and they all pause as a giant robot bursts out of the warehouse. it creaks into its full height.

‘hey,’ keith says. ‘we match.’

‘what,’ lance says flatly.

‘we have the same arm,’ keith explains.

‘no, i see that,’ lance says exasperatedly, ‘it’s just that you only have a robot arm. that robot _is literally just a robot_.’

‘smash?’ hunk asks shiro.

‘jesus, no,’ pidge says, ‘i wanna look at that technology.’

‘just look at my arm,’ keith says, ‘hunk, smash.’

‘guys,’ matt says. ‘it’s coming towards us.’

‘what’s your call, captain?’ allura asks. she’s swinging her hammer in preparation.

‘cool catchphrase?’ pidge asks.

‘just- just attack.’

 

‘we need a cool catchphrase,’ lance says once the mission is done, ‘i don’t think ‘just attack’ motivated us the way it should have. how about, shiro says ‘vol’ and we say ‘tron’. keith, do it with me. vol-’

‘voltron?’

‘no, the cheer includes the instructions, babe. shiro says vol and we say-’

‘voltron?’

‘voltron assemble,’ suggests pidge. everyone wrinkles their nose.

‘what did they say on altea?’ hunk asks allura. she ponders.

‘let’s punch the quiznak out of them,’ allura says.

‘too long,’ pidge says.

‘form voltron?’ shiro asks tentatively.

‘that could work.’

 

(‘form voltron,’ shiro says on their next mission.

‘nah,’ lance says.)

 


End file.
